The Grimm Who Cried Wolf
by neverdidrunsmooth
Summary: Monroe has a dream about attacking a girl and worries that it's a sign of his relapse into his Blutbad nature as his past comes back to haunt him.


Chapter 1

_He could feel the earth between his toes and the night air cool against his back. He knew every tree every stone. The territory smelled like his. _

_On the wind, he could a new scent, a good scent. He ran hoping to catch it, sink his teeth in. The scent was a girl who looked sixteen. She didn't see him at first. She walked in time to the song he could hear through her headphones. It sounded like "Highway to Hell." Her pale legs reflected the moonlight. He could see veins through the skin, beautiful and blue, drumming with life._

_He licked her just to taste the sweat salty. She screamed. Screams would bring more people but she was so alone here. He could hear the pulse of her blood, smell the iron. She backed away falling on the ground he closed his teeth around her arm and-_

Rosalie yawned. "Monroe, could you shut off the alarm?" She nuzzled against his chest. He could smell the vanilla and lavender scent of her hair. Underneath he could smell the blood, close enough taste, so easy now that she was close and asleep. "What are you looking at, hon? Are you okay?"

Monroe pushed himself away from the bed and Rosalie. "Me? I'm dandy. Breakfast? Raspberry tofu muffins coming up. You stay right here. Don't move. I'll be back. There's certainly nothing to worry about." He walked out of the room and downstairs to his kitchen. He needed smells and food that could take his mind off this. He closed his eyes. Breathing in. Breathing out. He would not lose it after years of keeping it together.

Rosalie came up behind Monroe and felt his forehead with the back of her hand. "You look flushed. Maybe you should sit down. I can try to make you some soothing tea remedy back at the shop." Rosalie tried to make eye contact with Monroe, but his eyes kept darting around the room. She hadn't seen him avoid someone this much since Juliet wanted to know the truth about Wesen. "What aren't you telling me?"

Monroe scoffed. "Nothing. It's nothing. You know what I could use? I really need that tea. Could you make that for me? Take your time. I'll be here." Monroe ushered Rosalie out the door after helping her with her coat.

Rosalie frowned. If something was wrong with him, the tea might help. Plus, she suspected that he might call Nick if it was something really bad. Sometimes she felt like it was a three person relationship or maybe foursome with Juliet. It was too much sometimes, but at least she could trust Nick to help Monroe if he wouldn't let her. She put her hand on the door to keep him from shutting it. "You'll rest until I get back and call me if it gets worse."

Monroe tried to laugh. He pushed his hair back off his face so that he'd have something to do with his hands to hide the shaking. "Is that a question?"

Rosalie moved her hand. "No, it's what is going to happen. I have things in the shop that could make your tea less soothing."

Monroe fought between his hunger for her blood and his urge to kiss her. He settled for squeezing her hand. "I love you. I'll see you when you get back." He closed the door and sat down on the floor. He could still hear the drumming of a pulse, but it was his.

He Woged and his vision sharpened. the drumming got louder. He couldn't stand the noise. He struck out at the lamp near his door tearing at the wood on the cuckoo clock near his door. The cuckoo clock that had been his great grandfather's solid oak with a mezzo soprano cuckoo. The scratches would never come out. Maybe if he buffed it. He touched the clock with hands instead of claws. He'd gone out of Blutbad mode without realizing in the clock damage. Maybe he just needed a project to focus on to take his mind off the pulse. He took the clock tenderly off the wall and laid it on his work table preparing to buff out the scratches. He didn't need to face questions about it when Rosalie came back.

**At the same time on the other side of Portland...**

Nick slammed the door of his SUV as he fell into step with Officer Wu. "What do we got?"

Officer Wu smirked. "You know we don't talk anymore. You don't ask how I am or how my day is going. I'm starting to feel a little under appreciated."

Nick smiled. "Okay. How are you?"

"I'm better off than some people. Take this girl. the park ranger says that it was some kind of animal attack. It looks like what we saw with that postal postman. He had some kind of rabid dog right? How did that all tie up?" Wu really thought that sometimes Hank and Nick had some odd ways of solving murders, but then again he wasn't the detective. Still, not much made sense since he'd been assigned to Portland Police Department.

Nick avoided Wu's gaze as he made his way through the woods to the body. "Uh well, it was the boot print that gave him away. I guess not every postman hates dogs. Do we think this is another dog attack?"

Wu pointed to the body on the ground which though it could be recognized as a body had several pieces of flesh ripped off in what seemed from bite marks. Nick thought if it was Wesen, the Captain or Monroe might be able to tell. He'd rather call Monroe though given his tenuous relationship with the Captain. He just hoped he wasn't interrupting anything between Monroe and Rosalie. He reached for his phone but paused as he heard something. "Do you hear ACDC?"


End file.
